The Silver Lie of Love
by SilenceByFire
Summary: After Loki returns to Asgard, he is imprisoned. Thor comes to his side and talks with him. Short


Darkness. Everything was darkness. Shapes didn't exist, nothing existed. Only the darkness. No light shining through a window, none of the Asgard of his youth. Just silenced screams and intermittent food, accompanied by beatings. Floating shapes now appeared, the beautiful aftertaste of pain, the only escape Loki could take. Punishment was not even that, it was his pleasure, his beauty and his life. Misbehavior, imagined or plotted, got more beatings, more beautiful shapes. _Such a masochist. You can't even want what everyone else wants_. _No wonder you're a failure. _That voice. Thousands of spits and curses upon that voice. Thor. Beloved son of Odin, better than Loki in every way. Loki tried to spit, to display the curled ball of emotion in his throat, but the dehydration and his muzzle prevented him. Stupid, older, _better_, inferior brother, sending him to this cursed place. To think he once looked up to that simpering, pathetic creature. Loki tried once again to dispel the rage building within him to no avail. _Save yourself you pathetic boy You. Are. Weak._ Thor's voice once again. Through the cuffs, he could feel his pulse, steadily increasing to the point where no human could sustain its rapid beat. Pulsing and seething, Loki hungered for release, the kind that a storm of magical, murderous fury would be so adept at providing. With the muzzle, his severely diminished powers could only manage a pitiful blue spark.

That, however, was more than enough to light the cavern in which they kept him. Roughly hewn stone, and his chains. Chains for _animals_, the way Thor used to have them, for fighting, for sport. The dim flame danced over the bruises and cuts, tingeing the red and purple the same dull gray hue. His entire back, his thighs, ached together with the throb of his heart, his healing spell unable to work. He was stronger than they realized. Not even Thor, mighty son of Odin, knew just how powerful his younger brother was. A laugh almost escaped until he realized… that muzzle. The curse and bane of his existence, sapping his power, making him so weak as to rely on simple spells he learned when he was young.

Not that they even worked. His wounds still pounded, tearing into his flesh and muscles and bones. The very core of him, beating at its green inhuman pace, ached with the knowledge that he was utterly defeated. Without this muzzle off, he would never be able to express his rage, the wrongs he had suffered, to those pitiful, helpless, simple sheep of humanity. So petty and adorable, the way they didn't love him. He would strike them down. Yes, he would have his day. But only when he could have his magic. And then, serendipity struck. His flame was fading fast, leaving nothing more than small blue sparks, and then, sound.

"I…I understand, but we simply cannot a-allow you to-"

"He is my brother, and I will do what I please. If I want to enter the chamber, I will. I swear on Mijölnir, I _will_ see my brother." Thor. Such thunder. Brother always had to make an entrance. Simple, naïve Thor, always thinking he could change Loki. He would see. Everyone would see.

And then there was light, sounds, voices, everything happening so fast, blurs of sound and fury. Anger, doors bursting open with white and blinding light, and finally, muted candlelight, throwing stark shadows across the cavern.

They were alone now, just Thor and Loki, in the flickering light. It would be almost romantic, if the bittersweet fruit of revenge wasn't already within Loki's grasp. But Thor couldn't tell. His care for his brother overcame all else, and the wounds Loki had suffered caused him pain. He showed Loki the small vial of healing potion he had, proceeding to rub it into Loki's back. Loki twitched slightly, grimaced, but made no other contact with Thor. Stupid brother, Thor thought, you don't need to pretend around me. The care for his adopted brother was so obvious, so tender, it was written all over his face, along with the rage he felt at those who had hurt his precious Loki.

And then, the God of Lies and Mischief understood. He could have everything he wanted, if only he could make Thor trust him. Just one show of understanding, of reformation, would get him the kingdom he rightly deserved. If nothing else, this would be his most spectacular show.

He did nothing the first week Thor came to him, and nothing the second. By then, Thor talked to him, babbling on about stupid people he had met, parties Loki was missing, and he knew it was time. Any more of this useless chatter would drive him crazy. His wounds were healing, and he hadn't been beaten much, but he was still gaunt and haggard, with unkempt hair and no clothes. This was all Thor's doing, and he would punish him. He would have his rightful kingdom

The candle flickered on the wall, making the high, thin cheekbones of Loki's face stand out in sharp relief to the pale skin around his eyes. Thor was busy, chatting away and rubbing potion on Loki's new bruises, when Loki reached out and grabbed his arm through the rough iron around each wrist, chained to the rock wall. Looking up, Thor saw the pleading face of his younger brother. _And he really is so young. You have to help him. Love him. Show him that you care for him, that you've always cared._ A small coughing sound escaped his lips, expelling with it the tender love Thor had been so easy to provide. _Steel your heart, boy. Nothing but sadness and pain_. But Thor took a closer look at his brother, who pleaded desperately with his eyes for just a moment of humanity, who grasped his arm with such urgent need. To not trust Loki was to deny the only love Thor ever held in his heart, and he faltered in his resolve. His hands went to the silvery muzzle, undoing the bright clasp under Loki's ragged hair.

The power that flowed into him was immense. Like the cascading waterfalls in which he used to play, the beautiful blue ebb and flow of the universe welcomed him. He could return to his kingdom, _his_ rightful kingdom, and punish all those who had stood in his way for far too long. Especially his sainted brother. For him, oh, he would have the best punishments of all.

"How are you brother? I have seen how they treat you. It is not right." Thor tilted his brothers' face upwards, pointing his chin, forcing eye contact.

Those deep green eyes were hollow. None of the gratitude, the love that Thor expected, just deep set emeralds, surrounded by pale flesh. An evil grin, well suited to the trickster's face, spread across his cheeks. "You should have never come, _brother_." And then everything went into a spiral of searing blue pain.


End file.
